Childhood Musings
by lokiyan
Summary: One shots featuring CB as children. Enjoy.
1. The Original Snow White

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The Original Snow White

From the moment Eleanor Waldorf set eyes on him, Chuck Bass knew he didn't stand a chance. Even at the age of six, he had inherited his father's stubborn, unyielding personality but, also like the business savvy senior Bass, he picked his battles wisely. The way the woman's withering glance hardly wasted another second on his mint green suit and bow tie made him second guess his choice of attire (he'd made a habit out of wearing a bow tie because once, while playing house, Blair made him the dog and called him _hers_ because he had a pretty bow; he liked belonging to her). Maybe he should have opted for the plain black suit that his maid had laid out and that Nate was also donning, but he had racked his brain all week trying to figure out what to wear to Blair Waldorf's sixth birthday party. Seeing the way the brunette fawned over his best friend he thought – yes, perhaps he should have gone for the black. And perhaps he shouldn't have called for the hairdresser yesterday because Blair had marveled at the way Nate's tresses hung slightly over his eyes and was mussed all over.

He slinked back into the overstuffed armchair and watched the way her eyes lit up, her berry red lips breaking into a smile that made her apple cheeks glow. His nickname for her, before Georgina Sparks had stolen it, was so fitting. Snow White. He had thought of it once when he overheard her crying to her maid about how _Serena_ was always the princess because she was _blond_ and _beautiful_. His father had never took him to the movies and he knew nothing of the princesses that Blair cried over, so he did the next best thing. It had been the first time that he'd really "hired" someone – some college intern slaving away for his father, and forced the acne-inflicted 20 year-old to research and compile a file containing pictures of all the well known princesses. He knew the minute his eyes landed on Snow White that she was it.

He was just about to slip the picture anonymously into her mini-Chanel purse when that annoying Georgina intercepted him. She could not stop laughing and proceeded to call her Snow White for the rest of the day. What had meant to be a compliment, like all things that came out of Georgina's mouth, quickly became an insult. It infuriated him when Blair, after hours of taunting as the "old, boring princess whom nobody cares about" burst into tears and Nathaniel Archibald stepped up and told Georgina to leave her alone. The prince in Snow White was supposed to have dark hair! That had been half the reason he had chosen her in the first place…

He adjusted his bow tie. What was he so afraid of? She's just a girl. He could just walk over and play with them. As he was about to make his way over, however, he found his path blocked. He looked up the length of the evil mother's body to her Medusa glare. "Chuck. Serena, Nathaniel and Blair are in the middle of their game. Why don't you go play with Michael over there?" He looked over at the kid with the huge glasses and winced. What was that kid thinking when he got dressed in the morning? But, he did know how to pick his opponents and Eleanor was not one to mess with. At least, not yet. As he walked away, he heard the two adults behind him.

"Eleanor, really-"

"Harold, that child reeks of new money. Just look at what he's wearing."

"They're children – "

"And Blair should learn to choose the company she keeps wisely at a young age."

On his way over to the dork, he prayed for something – anything to happen. For the first, and perhaps only, time in his life, his prayers were answered as the young hostess let out a wail. He only needed to glance in their direction to know what had happened.

"Snow White, Snow White, Boring Old White" Sparks taunted even as Nate pulled the crying Blair across the room and Serena dragged her in the other direction.

"Mooooooom! Make her stop!" The tears ran down her face so tragically that even her prince's arm around her shoulder wouldn't stop them.

"Oh, not this nonsense again. Dorota! Take care of this. I have a meeting with a few buyers." Before the girl could make another cry of protest, her mother was out the door.

He felt the maid standing next to him stiffen. Everyone knew that when Blair threw a tantrum, she liked to drag out the moment. But really, he couldn't stand her tears much longer and tugged at the maid's apron. She turned to him with wide, frightened eyes. "Tell her that Snow White was the _original_ Disney princess. She's a classic, like Audrey."

He watched the maid walk over apprehensively and spoke loudly over his princess' cries. "Snow White original princess, Ms. Blair! Classic, like Ms. Audrey!"

The crying stopped and she turned her doe eyes at Dorota, then at Nate, questioning a silent "really?" They both nodded enthusiastically.

Mission accomplished. It seemed things were back to normal and he continued to drag his feet back to Michael, who was sucking nerve-wreckingly on his inhaler. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Dorota, much more relaxed now that the crisis was averted. "What your name, sir?"

"I'm Chuck Bass." She pulled a comb out of her apron pocket and flattened a presumably stray piece of hair onto the top of his head.

"Mr. Chuck. Ms. Eleanor gone for the rest of party and Ms. Blair starting new game." After a quick hand smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit. "Mint ice cream, I think. Ms. Blair's favorite." Into the kitchen she disappeared. So maybe he wouldn't go against Eleanor Waldorf. The Nate Archibald's of the world could walk proudly through the front door into any venue he wanted, but Chuck Bass would always find his way backstage, up close and personal, right when no one was looking. With Blair Waldorf, Dorota became his backstage pass.


	2. Same Difference

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Same Difference

Whenever they met each other, Blair's lips would curl into a smile, but Chuck knew that even back in the first grade, she wanted to rip Georgina Spark's hair out - without the help of Nair for extra satisfaction.

The two of them though, Chuck and Blair, they were friends, or, according to Blair Waldorf, he was "tolerable company." Some of the things that he said turned her stomach and she abhorred the influence he had on her beloved Nathaniel, but she learned to deal with his vulgarity. He did have his uses as well (there may or may not have been an incident regarding a bucket of paint and a girl that dared to show up in the same dress as she did at the Valentine's social at Constance. Carter Baizen, for his own entertainment as the chaperone, may or may not have provided the materials but the little princess herself was not about to get her hands dirty.)...

Nathaniel's 12th birthday party was held in a private suite at the Palace, under the conditions of a deal made between the Bass men. Chuck would have to behave himself in the following month, but that was a small sacrifice to keep his best friend happy. He considered it practice for the bachelor party that he would undoubtedly be hosting within the next ten years for the Waldorf-Archibald wedding. The guest list comprised of a select few from the prestigious families of the Upper East Side - the birthday boy's girlfriend (the one, at the tender pre-teen age, Nate still adored) Serena van der Woodsen, a few unimportant bodies, and, to his utter disgust, Georgina Sparks.

Although it was just as well that she was invited. He wasn't sure if he could stomach hours of watching the couple smile idiotically at each other on the couch, random body parts on top of each other (unfortunately for Chuck, nothing too exciting - someone's head on someone's lap, shoulder, awkward-looking kisses).

Of course, it was the whore's (it would be a few more years and frightening encounters before Chuck could come up with the ingenious fusion that resulted in "Whoregina") idea to play spin-the-bottle. Who else would be so tacky and middle-class? Blair had flat out refused to participate.

He never complained though, as he was on the receiving end of a few kisses himself. When Serena van der Woodsen kissed him, he was surprised at the sloppy and eager way she attacked him. Considering her reputation, he expected someone a little more skilled. Of course Nathaniel would snag the better kisser of the two friends from the moment they met. The blond giggled and sat back while a disgusted curl of the upper lip was glued to her brunette best friend's face. He smirked right back and she decidedly ignored him.

For every time a girl landed on Nathaniel, Blair would insist that the kiss be brief and that he kissed her right after - to "correct the palate." The longer the game went on, it seemed to be helping their relationship more than it was helping Chuck get action. As Blair became more and more possessive, she upped her game - slipping a tongue here, a hand there. Chuck was sure he was going to vomit - was he here to watch the Nate and Blair show?

So he turned away and spun the damn bottle hoping it would land on Sasha Brennan because she had let him put his hand up her sweater before. It spun and the sound of glass scraping against the polished floor sounded like nails against a chalkboard. After a full minute, it seemed, it stopped. Crap.

"Ha! Chuck has to kiss Nate!" He knew he hated slobber-lips Serena for a reason.

"Absolutely not!" He hated to admit it, but Waldorf was adorable when she pouted, even if her lips were swollen from nauseating kisses. Her hair was in curls today and they bounced indignantly along with her head, showing her disapproval through her entire being.

"Oh, believe me. I'm not gunning for that either, Waldorf." Ugh. He was opened to new experiences but... no.

"Then you have to kiss Blair! They were sitting together!" Then again, Serena had her redeeming qualities.

"Woah, Blair's not even playing. Leave her out of this." Nathaniel put a protective arm around his petite girlfriend and Chuck wasn't sure if he should be offended. Was he expecting him to jump her?

"Fine, Archibald. Pucker up, then." Georgina was way too amused for any good to come out of this. He was sure there was a plot somewhere in here.

"I said no!"

"Well, sweetheart, it's you or him." The brunettes faced off each other and the queen knew she was backed into a corner. The question was, would she sacrifice herself to save her king? Chuck looked on curiously as well, all the while hating the fact that he was obviously a black chess piece with Georgina, pitched against the white marble set of Nate and Blair.

She bit her lip, an audible sigh and the most distressed look on her face. Come on, spare the dramatics. Was it really so horrible? The prospect of kissing him? She turned an accusing gaze to him, as if he had willed the bottle to land on them. "Fine, let's get this over with. And keep your everything to yourself."

"Sweetheart, you don't have to do this."

"Trust me, Nate. I would sleep much better at night knowing that my boyfriend didn't kiss Chuck Bass." She shivered at the thought. He wanted her to shiver at the thought of something else, but the sight was satisfying all the same.

He walked over to her slowly, smirk on his face, hands behind his back - the most nonthreatening gesture he could think of without looking like a wuss. He could feel Nathaniel's gaze on him, watching his every move and prepared to defend his princess and Chuck wanted to roll his eyes. Honestly, this role-playing was getting old. He bent over, his face level with hers and, detecting the hesitance in her features, asked (for the first time in his life, mind you) "are you sure?"

He was gobsmacked, to say the least.

A shake of the head, a spitefull comment, sure, but he never expected her to put her hand behind his neck and pull him forward towards her until their lips mashed together in a delightful softness that had him curling his toes in his three-hundred-dollar loafers. He vaguely recalled the last time he had kissed her many many years ago and memorized the way her eyelashes felt against his skin.

Within a second, she pushed him away and he stood for a second, allowing his body to respond to the onslaught of sensations that had rushed through his body. She wasted no time in curling herself against Nate to play the wronged princess.

"Woo! All right, Snow White! Didn't know you had it in you!" Georgina had cheered and the game continued. Chuck was thankful not to have been picked for the next few rounds. He wasn't sure what he would do, especially since his legs were hardly functioning properly.

All seemed to be back to normal before, of course, it went straight back to hell.

The next thing he knew, the predatorial expression on Georgina's face turned towards the little brunette. He hardly registered what was going on, only sound clips playing in his head.

"You scared, Snow White?"

"No way am I kissing a crackwhore."

"Then shall I sample your boyfriend? Didn't think so."

Then his brain exploded. Everything he knew came undone when Georgina lunged and straddled herself onto the girl, hands cupping those soft cheeks, lips twisting to meld with hers. It was the show of a lifetime and he and his best friend had front row seats. Even Nathaniel, the ever protective knight, just watched with slackened jaw the erotic display that seemed to be his birthday present from God. His girlfriend struggled for breath even as the villain grinded her black jeans against her pretty white dress, which was riding up her thigh dangerously. Their breathing and Georgina's shameless moans provided a delightful soundtrack to the movie his mind would undoubtedly be playing over and over...

He never noticed the similarities between them - petite brunettes, pale skin, curled hair, big, deceptively innocent eyes. Sure, that was pretty much where the similarities ended, but he would take what he could get. He knew he couldn't get Blair Waldorf, but Georgina Sparks? Easy.

****

That was why he found himself divested of his pesky virginity (although he never really believed himself to be chaste in any sense of the word), wild blue eyes looking at him in a wondrous expression. He would have to make note to avoid her, he could tell. He was sure Carter had a few tricks up his sleeve about avoiding clingy women.

He would call Nathaniel later tonight when he was sure the little Waldorf was no longer in the company of his best friend. Certainly, she would frown upon it immensely or worse, finding him less tolerable due to the company he kept.


	3. Laying Claim

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything...

Laying Claim

He was tired of his battery-run, hand-crafted, top-of-the-line train set. His father had thought it was an ingenious idea a week ago - just set little five-year-old Chuck down in the playing room in his little pastel button down shirts and corduroys with the expensive engines and let him watch it go around in circles for a few months. It was a drastic understatement to say that the man did not know his son at all. After approximate an hour, he was running around the studying, looking for new "toys" to play with. Toys like Bart's limited edition Rolex.

His father had promised him an interesting day, but he knew better. As he waited in his room, dressed in his freshly pressed pink button down with his brown corduroys, he'd counted all the things that his father could have meant. The list, however, turned into smoke when his father strolled in to collect him, dressed in his gray pinstripe suit that made him look more severe than usual. He had a business meeting. Chuck, of course, knew better than to say anything.

And so the train made another turn, through the tunnel and was coming out the other end of the clay mountain when the door bell rang. He heard the door to his father's study open next to him and the man's powerful footsteps as he came to greet the new guests. To his surprise, a moment later, he heard his father's call for him.

One patent leather shoe in front of another, he made his way to the banisters by the staircase and peeked through the ornately carved wooden bars. There stood his father next to a man in a suit adorn with an easy smile and gentle brown eyes. Something about this man had made even his father seem more at ease as his shoulders relaxed from his normally tense posture. He took in the man's appearance in approval. His collar was freshly pressed, his tie was a bright splash of color in contrast to his sleek black suit and - what's this?

Tiny lily-white hands grasped onto the back crease of the man's pants and white lace flared out from behind both sides of his pant leg. His squinted and leaned forward, face pressed between the columns with the carvings making an indent on the edges of his face. He was sure he had heard a little mouse of a squeak when his father had looked down at the little thing trembling behind the newcomer. "Don't be shy, Blair-Bear. Say 'how do you do' to Mr. Bass." And slowly, just as the sun takes its time to emerge from the horizon, the most curious and delicate face Chuck had ever seen on an actual human being peeked out from behind the man. The rest of her lithe form followed suit and oh, the way her big brown eyes sparkled under the lights of the chandelier fascinated him more than ever.

"How do you do, Mr. Bass?" The girl curtsied, delicately like everything else about her, and the red bow in her hair held her brown curls away from her angelic face. Chuck was sure his father had said something in response, but he was too busy watching her blush spread beneath her porcelain skin, the rosy color contrasting beautifully with the white lace of her dress.

Suddenly she looked up at him and he forgot to breathe. Everything from her big doe eyes to her cute cherry lips he wanted. He wanted them readily accessible to him at any time like his train set and his wardrobe was. He would put her in the rocking chair beside his bed and every night, she would purse those lips and whistle him a tune until he fell asleep. He would -

"Charles. What are you doing up there? Come greet our guests." He managed to make it down the stairs without tripping over his own feet and he refused to look, for surely, the things he wanted the most were always taken from him. Out of sight, out of mind was a concept he learned at an early age. "Charles, meet Mr. Waldorf and his lovely daughter, Blair. She's going to be your playmate today while Mr. Waldorf and I talk business. I expect you to be on your best behavior and get Ms. Waldorf whatever she asks, do you understand?"

Did Chuck hear his father correctly? This Blair... she was to be _his _playmate? All he heard was that she was _his_ and to him, that was all that mattered. "Yes sir." Finally, Bart had managed to deliver one of the many things he had genuinely wanted from his father. He wouldn't disappoint him by not taking care of his new gift. "I will take good care of her, Mr. Waldorf." He kept one hand behind his back and extended his other hand towards her. She shrank back further and burrowed her face into her father's knee.

"Blair-bear, it will only be for a little while. Look what a little gentleman young Charles is. Go play with him." At his urging, she looked up at her father, then back at the boy. Well, he did wear pink, so she supposed he was acceptable company. She took his hand and offered another curtsy with her other hand on her skirt. He bowed in turn.

The adults returned upstairs for the study and he noticed her stare at the candy dish by the telephone. "Are you hungry?" She bit her lip in hesitation for a moment, before looking up through her eyelashes at the smitten boy with a nod. His heart pounded away in his eardrums and all he could do was keep his hold on her hand as he led the way to the kitchen, where the chef was ordered to create any concoction the young girl desired. She ate and prattled on about how her maid, Dorota, made a better cheesecake than his pastry chefs and wiped the corners of her mouth delicately after every bite. Yes, he had plenty of plans for his new playmate, but he would feed her first.

Chuck Bass always took excellent care of his belongings.


	4. Chance

Disclaimer: All right, from now on, this applies to all future chapters: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING!

A/N: I just wanted to drop a note to everyone who reads and supports and reviews this story! You guys have no idea how much I appreciate it!

Chance

"Where's Nathaniel?" It had been a while since Chuck got to spend time alone with his Blair. Usually, his best friend was invited to their playdates (he'd heard Eleanor say that he was the "chaperone," whatever that meant. He didn't like her very much. He liked Harold because he told Eleanor she was being silly). Today, when he strode into the Waldorf play pen (what Blair liked to call "chez Waldorf"), he immediately noticed the boy's absence. His little seven-year-old heart jumped under the lapel of his pink suit jacket.

"Chicken pox." She tilted her chin, with all the elegance of a queen, to an empty chair at her tea table, right between Mr. Whiskermoths and Daisy Duck (Blair liked her bow). "I sent Dorota over there with some soup and a love letter."

His mouth twisted and he straightened his floral print bowtie. "You didn't send **me** a love letter when I had the chicken pox. Probably because you can't spell."

Her doll face scrunched up indignantly. "I can too! Besides, you **gave** me the chicken pox!" Oh that was right. He remembered getting the spots and feeling sick but not wanting her to go home just yet. It made him feel better to lean against her silk dress, watching her brush her doll's hair while lecturing him about scratching his itch (no one told Chuck Bass what to do, but Blair Waldorf never got the memo). She ended up getting so upset with him for making her sick (thus, keeping Nate away) that to apologize, he had to personally hand-deliver a set of silk ribbons from Japan to her bedside. "Now sit. You're interrupting our tea time and you know how Mr. Whiskermoths gets without his tea." He eyed the small round table and found that his usual seat was already occupied. With a scowl, he grabbed the doll by its yarn hair and threw it carelessly at the previously indicated seat between the two stuffed animals. "Hey! Daddy got me that!"

She pouted, her soft lips resembling a plump peach that he wanted to sink his teeth into. Usually, he couldn't resist, but no way was he about to be replaced by a scrap piece of cloth. "It's ugly anyway." He sat in the now empty mini wooden chair beside her.

"Take that back! Catherine is _not_ ugly!" She stomped her tiny patent-leather clad feet to where the doll landed sideways on the chair. She got that from him, Chuck knew. He always treated her right so she, in turn, took care of _her _belongings.

"Catherine? THat ugly thing cannot share a name with the legendary Catherine Deneuvre," he protested for the French beauty whom he always saw on the cover of his father's movies.

"It's Catherine, the Cabbage Patch Kid, stupid."

They had a pleasant tea once they settled in. They poked fun at what Hazel wore to school the other day and the atrocity that was the new nurse ("Where do they get these people? Even Dorota knows how to braid my hair better than that! I would not trust her with bandages"). They moved to the entertainment station and had Dorota put on "Snow White." Blair wanted to prove that horrible Georgina Sparks wrong by gathering evidence that she was nothing like the princess. He leaned back and relaxed against the cushions, his white socks occasionally nudging at her knee. His jacket laid on the floor beside him, the sleeves of his white button down were rolled up to his elbow and his tie hung undone around his neck. Blair sat beside him, her back upright, her legs bent to the side and her white dress fanned out around her. The red headband kept her hair out of her face and he watched her furrowed brow. In her hands, she gripped a pen and notepad as she failed to come up with anything other than the fact that her father wasn't dead (at that point, she had another row with her mother).

Finally, as the movie drew to a conclusion, she sighed. "I suppose it's not _so_ bad to be her. Nate can be the prince." She smiled, content at her logic.

Chuck oh-so-casually scratched the back of his head. "The prince has dark hair," he muttered.

She rolled her eyes as if speaking to a small child. "So didn't Sally Hutchinson's mother before her little visit to Pierre's on 70th and 5th. Details can be changed to fit your ideal, Chuck. But enough about that. There is something I want to show you." She gave him her secret smile, the one where the corners of her lips curled up and to the side and her eyes squinted slightly as she looked at him through her lashes. In a beat, she ran to the nightstand on the other side of the room, took something from the drawer, and ran back to sit beside him. Her excitement peaked his interest and he sat up, facing her.

She pulled her hand out from behind her bed and there in her palm was a little silver tube. At his silence and lack of excitement, she quickly explained. "I took it from my mother's boudoir. It's-"

"-I know what lipstick looks like. I'm not Nathaniel, or Serena for that matter. If you wanted one, I could have bought you the entire collection from Chanel. You didn't have to steal." And he would have. He always made sure that his belongings, including his Blair, wanted for nothing.

The smirk came back and now he was nervous. "It's not just any lipstick, Chuck. It's the lipstick that I'm going to wear when I give Nate my first kiss." He clenched his jaw and thought of the final kiss in Snow White. The prince had dark hair, damn it! "Daddy told me that this was the exact same shade that my mother was wearing when she first kissed him. I've been practicing putting it on and staying in the lines. Look."

She uncapped the tube and twisted the bottom slightly so that the rouge tip sprouted out. Chuck watched as she carefully covered her lip from corner to corner in the modest red. She carefully placed the lipstick back in the drawer before bouncing back to show off her work.

"Not bad," he shrugged. But now her lips looked like cherries and he wanted a taste even more. The way she said first kiss. he felt like he was about to lose something very important to Nathaniel and the thought brought sweat to his palms. "Oh, I almost forgot. I brought something for you."

At the prospect of a present, her face lit up. "What is it? Where? Show me!" She loved CHuck's presents. They were always so pretty and elegant.

"First, you have to close your eyes." He fought to keep his nerve. His father's voice came to mind from a time when Chuck had accidentally interrupted a business meeting of his. _A lot of times in life you only have one chance. You can't always be messing up like this, Charles_. He thought to himself that this time, if never again, he would take the chance and get it right.

"But why?! I want to see it!"

"That's the deal. If you don't, then no present."

She attempted her famous lost-little-girl face before she rolled her eyes and sighed, exasperated. "Fine, if I must."

So, she did just that. Her eyes closed and her hands laid in her lap, her back perfectly straight.

In that smal window of opportunity, Chuck took a chance. He lunged forward recklessly, sending both of them crashing back into the cushions behind them and pressed his face forward until he _finally_ felt her petal soft lips under his.

He was glad this - _this_ - was his.

He lifted himself off the petite girl and grinned, suddenly feeling deliriously happy. Her hair was a mess, her headband tilted, her dress wrinkled and her lipstick, so perfectly lined before, smeared onto the pale skin surrounding her lips. She looked at him, eyes widened to the size of a pair of large onyx earrings that he'd found in his father's drawing next to a picture of a woman he never knew. He wondered what she was th-

"DOROTA!!!!!" The screech bounced off the walls and tears of frustration were ready to spill from her eyes. The polish maid came running in and the girl ran into her arms. "Chuck took my - he - Dorota! Make him leave!" With that, she stomped out of the room.

In later years, Chuck would not be able to help but laugh whenever he wondered what Dorota must have thought at that moment. There was litte six-year-old, shoeless Chuck Bass, leaning casually on an elbow with lipstick on his face, his tie undone around his neck, his jacket on the floor, and the most self-satisfied smirk she had probably ever seen on a child. Before banishing him as her mistress had asked, she gave him an alarmed look with her green eyes. "Mr. Chuck very bad." That was how she looked at him from then on.

Of course, it was to no one's surprise that a week later, Blair Waldorf announced that she had given Nathaniel Archibald her first kiss while wearing the lipstick that sealed her parents' love. And while Nathaniel bragged about his prowess, Chuck took joy in the glare that Blair would send his way whenever he smirked at the mention of the so-called first kiss. Blair might have been willing to sacrifice for her idea, but Chuck Bass never forgot the truth.


	5. Things That Count

Disclaimer: Zero, nada goose egg…

Things That Count

The only number that Chuck Bass really had to know was that he was almost six years old. Asides from that, he didn't really like to count. So what if his teachers were unimpressed? He was Chuck Bass. There were people who do things like _counting, _people he could hire. Chuck Bass did not count, at least not pass the number three. Unfortunately, in life, there has to be some sort of way to measure quantity so he had a system. First, he compared things. Second, he used simple adjectives - a lot, very much, very little, who cares?

Case in point, today Chuck put the system to the test. Comparison: he disliked Serena van der Woodsen as much as he liked Blair Waldorf. Adjective: a lot.

She was a girl that Blair met through their mothers and it made her happy that she had a female friend, so Chuck guessed that it was all right. He approved for the moment (it was hard to deny her anything in the first place, especially when she looked so lovely in her new satin green dress). But then she was all that his Blair talked about over their tea party. She never once commented on his new red and white polka dotted bow tie that he got because it reminded him of her, nor did she compliment him on the dashing job his maid had done in pressing his suit before he came. It was Serena-this, Serena-that. Serena had pretty gold hair. Serena looked like a doll. Serena let her play with her baby brother.

What was so great about babies anyway? (If she wanted one, she could have asked. Chuck would give her one.)

Besides, she had a long, stupid name. Chuck Bass - two sounds. Blair Waldorf - three. Serena van der - that's more than three already.

What was worse, though, was that she interrupted their weekly playdate. It was the only real time that he and Blair got to spend together and he looked forward to it every other day of the week. After tea this Tuesday, they were just about to dance like the prince and princess did at the end of Beauty and the Beast when the Dorota came in, announcing the presence of a Miss Serena. Blair immediately dropped his hand and ran out of the room to greet her.

No, he did not like this Serena at all.

He waited a whole five minutes (he almost charged down there at the thought of Blair forgetting about him) before the two girls came back, giggling and whispering, blond and brown hair bouncing everywhere. He didn't see the big deal about this girl. She was all right looking, he guessed, nothing stunning like his Blair (of course, Bass men always had the best according to his father). And she wore hot pink (definitely _not_ her color). And she was loud. He heard her laughing from down the hall. He coughed uncomfortably, like he had seen his father do a million times.

"Oh, Chuck. This is the Serena I was telling you about. Serena, this is Chuck. Our daddies work together." She played the nice hostess and introduced the two.

He would behave for Blair because he could tell that she was anxious for the two to get along, so he took a step towards the blond to shake her hand when she giggled. "You have a funny bow. Boys don't wear bows." If there was any way he could compare beyond his like for Blair, he might just dislike Serena enough for that. But unfortunately, his scale goes from chances that he would ever be broke to how much he likes Blair.

Her laughter escalated and Chuck felt his cheeks burn. He was just about to reach up and rip off the carefully tied _new_ tie, when Blair put her tiny hand over his. "Chuck wears bows. It's his _thing_. It's cute. Like a puppy."

"Ooooh, puppy! I like puppies! I wanted to ask my mom for one but-" the girl rambled, but Chuck didn't care. All he knew was that Blair liked him in bows and he held on to her hand while the brunette listened intently to her new friend. "So what are you guys up?"

"Chuck and I were just about to dance like Belle and the prince does at the end of Beauty and the Beast!" He stumbled a bit out of anxiety as she threw her arms around him and twirled him around the room thrice, looking every bit the princess she was. He held her close to him and felt her soft hair brush against his cheek like the feathers in his down pillow (they had a pillow fight once. His father was not impressed) and he almost forgot that someone else was there...

"You guys are doing it wrong!" And before he knew what happened, his Blair was ripped away from him, her petite form replaced with a girl who was nearly as tall as he was and way too shiny. "It's less hugging and more gliding." She then, way too energetically for his taste, yanked him around the room, humming a stupid song.

He was feeling dizzy when they glided by Blair and he saw her face, a little too sad for his liking (and by that, he meant any trace of sadness at all) as she looked on. She looked at them like she looked at the too-thin models in her mother's workroom.

Speak of the devil and she doth appear. "Oh, Serena, you look lovely. Come, you must try on one of the things I'm working on for my children's collection. Blair was my dress form, but I think the color scheme goes much better with your hair color and skin tone." Chuck Bass never hated Eleanor more than at that moment as she took Serena's hand and brought her into her workroom and fawned over here while Blair looked on, tears already brimming her eyes.

"You're a better dancer," he muttered quietly, knowing that it probably did not help her any. "And I think you look better in dresses." He inched closer to her, room still spinning a bit, and nudged her a little with his elbow.

She broke out of her trance and looked at him, startled. He pulled out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to her and she wiped her eyes. "It'll be better. Chuck. Serena is going to teach me how to be bright and shiny too. Then mother can use me as a model instead of a dress form."

He really really hoped that Serena would just go away. Because then, his Blair wouldn't change and _they _wouldn't change. They would still be Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck. It was so much better than girl-with-ridiculous-name. There was only one Chuck Bass and one Blair Waldorf, and for Chuck, that was enough.

A/N Sorry. Haha. I had to put in the giving her a baby thing in there. I couldn't help myself.


	6. Playing House

Disclaimer: Zero, nada goose egg…

Playing House

She perched perfectly still on his shoulder as he looked out the window. The limo rolled the five blocks to the Waldorf penthouse and his feet, which haven't grown quite enough to touch the floor of the vehicle yet, swung in excitement, the white sneakers gleaming every time it caught the sun. She was such a lady – she didn't slobber or bark or drool like Nathaniel's new golden retriever puppy, Rover. She just sat on his shoulder in her little purple bow and tutu while her tail swung against the front of his matching sweater vest. He gave it a treat and looked on in fatherly approval as she took it in her little hands and munched. Blair was going to love Sweetie.

_Last week:_  
_  
__"I heard Natie's got a new puppy. I hope it doesn't drool on my dress." She held her hands in front of her as the two walked through the Archibald foyer. She'd told him that the two of them were too old to hold hands now, even after he reminded her that he was still eight years old even if she was nine. _

_"I'll protect you." And he would have, even if it meant having to throw away his new red, blue, and yellow jacket from United Colors of Benetton. _

_"Oh, don't be silly. I have to at least pretend I like it. It's all Natie talks about nowadays." He couldn't help but think that Natie was all she talked about now. They heard a bark and she jumped, her bravado gone and her hand flew to his. He smirked – they always came back. _

_"Blair! Chuck! Meet Rover." The thing was on a leash, but it was still stupid enough to jump around in an effort to get away. The two of them watched in horror as Nate let go of his end of the leash and the little gold thing bounded toward them. He put one arm out and held Blair back even as she hid behind him, her little hands hanging onto his coat. Despite the creature now trying to climb up his legs and ruining his gray trousers, he couldn't help but enjoy the pressure of her little fingers on his back. "Sorry, Chuck. He gets a bit enthusiastic." They both sighed in relief when Nate grabbed the leash back and got the Furby under control. _

_He heard Blair take a deep breath behind him and watched in amazement as she glided towards the blond boy and his equally fair-haired companion. She crouched down and with a quick glance at Nate's smiling approval, cupped the puppy's face in her hands. "Hi, sweetie." He wanted to laugh when she nearly gagged at the dog's breath. _

_"Aw, he likes you, Blair! Actually, I was just gonna take him out for a walk. You guys wanna come?" _

_"I think my pants and I will pass." _

_"Well, have fun staying here alone, Chuck. Let's go!" The girl really was quite the actress as she turned to Nate and shyly asked, "Do you think I could hold the leash?" _

_Nathaniel bobbed his head enthusiastically, matching his new pet. "Just let me grab my coat!" He kissed her quickly on the cheek and Chuck snarled, eyeing the boy even as he disappeared from the room. The moment the blond was gone, she held the leash as far from her body as possible. _

_He ran up to her as she was distracted and in lightning speed (and tip-toes. He was ashamed to admit that she had been a bit taller than him), wiped her cheek with his sleeve and kissed her twice where Nate had done. She turned to him and laughed at his antics and he took the opportunity to kiss her other cheek. "You're like a little monkey, Bass." _

Sweetie was going to knock Blair's tights off (she did have such pretty little legs, Chuck thought). The elevator opened and he found her sitting by the piano, practicing her scales. She froze when she saw the two of them. "Chuck Bass, is that what I think it is?"

"Her name is Sweetie." Sweetie ran across the back of his shoulder to the other side. "She's very excited to meet you."

She was silent and he was nervous, until she burst out laughing, exciting the monkey even more. "Oh, that is just like you, Chuck!" He smiled and sat beside her with Sweetie running around him all the while. "Sweetie doesn't bite or scratch, does she?"

"Only ugly girls, so you're safe."

She turned to the little thing skittering about. "Well, Sweetie. You have very good taste. Daddy obviously taught you well."

He blushed because when they played house, Blair was always Mommy but he never got to be Daddy. He figured he'd milk it while he could so he dug into his pockets and took out another treat. "You could feed the baby if you want, Blair," he mumbled. He placed the treat in her hand and, very carefully, she let the monkey snatch the treat from between her fingers. He wasn't nervous about Sweetie attacking Blair at all. After all, he'd shown her Blair's picture a thousand times to make sure she didn't feel like a stranger when they finally met.

He put the "baby" on the piano and watched it dance while he played a few notes he learned in his last lesson. Blair was elated at the performance and stood in her own yellow dress and began to dance as well. "Let Mommy teach you how to dance properly, Sweetie."

Chuck decided that in the history of the game, this had to be the best game of House ever.


	7. Before Midnight

A/N: It's been a while. Hopefully you guys will enjoy this little diddie that I came up with during my afternoon commute on the subway.

Before Midnight

"I bet I can stay up later than you."

"Nu uh!" Ther was something in the way that prim and proper Waldorf said that. Whatever that something was, it made Chuck's face turn pink enough to match his pajama top. "I'm a big girl and I'm older so I can stay up later!"

"Okay, if you fall asleep first, um..." He paused and scratched his head of freshly cut brown hair. ".. then you can't talk to Nate for a week." Chuc knew how to make deals. He'd watched his father enough to learn.

He watched the girl chew on her plump lower lip, the cherry flesh disappearing only to reappear, her forehead scrunched upward in a frown. "Fine! But if you fall asleep then you can't wear bow ties for a month!" That'd teach him.

They shook on it like they'd seen people do in movies and settled back in bed. Dorota had protested the impropriety of it all when Bart Bass dropped off his seven year old while he jetted off to Los Angeles to close up a deal in time for New Years. Eleanor merely waved the boy off to her own daughter before getting back to planning out the very important details of her upscale soiree. It would all turned out to be a success, of course. In true Bass and Waldorf style, Bart got his deal and Eleanor's soiree was the talk of the town.

From his friend's large princess bed full of lace and frills that Chuck could just _choke_ on, the children listened to the clinking of champagne glasses and the murmurs of insignificant conversation. This was what they would become one day, but for now they were tucked in above it all in the second floor of the Waldorf penthouse, her goose-down comforter covering their legs as they sat against the headboard.

"So... what do we do now?" It wasn't that Chuck was uncomfortable with silence. On the contrary, with Bart always away, he had adjusted to being perfectly content with the stilness in the room and the raging noises in his mind. But here he was, sitting next to _Blair Waldorf_. Alone! The thought of it made his palms sweaty again and he wiped his hand onto her comforter and prayed it wouldn't stain.

"Well, we're supposed to be asleep. Mother says I need my beauty rest."

He turned his face to her and observed her profile, from her big brown eyes topped with long black lashes to her petite, pointed nose, to her soft peach-colored pout. He turned back to face forward and muttered. "No, you don't." She couldn't be anymore beautiful, he decided. It just wasn't possible. He was Chuck Bass and he had seen plenty of models walk through the doors of his father's bedroom so he knew beautiful when he saw it.

And Blair Waldorf was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. So much so that he couldn't tell anyone, especially not Nathaniel. It was a business thing really. If no one else knew about it, he could keep it all to himself. If good old Nate knew, he might look at Blair too and really see what he had yet to open his eyes to. No, this was just a way of eliminating competition. No hard feelings.

"We can watch TV. We can watch the ball drop or something." He'd heard from Serena that there was a huge party in Times Square every year and that her mom was taking her this year as an apology for leaving for Germany two months ago. Maybe they'll see her on television.

"It sounds so noisy and crowded." He turned on the television anyway with the remote but before the noise could blow out her delicate eardrums (even with her claws, everything about her was delicate to Chuck), he pressed the mute button. Blair turned down the lights with the switch beside the bed.

Like every true New Yorker, Chuck hated Times Square. It was noisy and busy and there really wasn't much to do. But there, on the screen, the city was lit up like multi-colored stars, flashing and shifting before their faces. He looked over at Blair to see the colored lights projected onto her pale skin and he couldn't believe she was real.

There, above the covers, he reached out and took hold of her hand, warm and smooth between his fingers. His head snapped back to the screen when she began to turn to him. When they showed a helicopter shot of the insane party, he felt her turn her own hand and entwine his fingers in hers. They fit perfectly. Chuck and Blair were born to hold hands.

And so they sat for two hours, watching as various hosts and performers came on and mouthed a few lines. The two of them provided their own commentary. "Hi, I'm _____ and I'm a pop star who never went to college and don't know how to dress myself." Blair would start.

"Yea, and I bought these ugly jeans from the Gap... on clearance." Chuck made her laugh. At least he tried and most of the time he succeeded.

Twenty seconds before the clock struck the magical twelve, Chuck turned to Blair to tease her about midnight kisses. Instead of finding her red faced and indignant, he realized that she'd fallen asleep. Her breath was even and her head was burrowed deep into her pillow. "I win," he said softly to himself.

He turned the volume up to a bare minimum and listened to the crowd count down. He slid down the bed hismelf until he was at face level with her.

_Ten_

He tucked the shoots in around her.

_Nine Eight Seven_

A hair fell in her face and he brushed it away.

_Six Five Four_

He scooted in closer, his upper body curved toward hers.

_Three_

He bit his lip, nervous.

_Two_.

He looked at hers, still soft and perfect.

_One_

"Happy New Years," he whispered and he followed the example of the herd of people in that party and the one below them. To the sound of cheers and champagne flutes, he kissed her.

She cheated the next day, telling him that she "most certainly did not fall asleep first" before calling Nate to wish him a happy new year. He stayed in bed and listened, his eyelids drooping even as he watched her flit around the room in her flowing nightgown.

So she saw Nate sooner than she should have, but Chuck still had the memory of their kiss burning in his mind and beneath the skin on his lips. That was enough.

For now, at least.


End file.
